


He Is Him, I Am Me

by shag_me_senseless_watson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Poetry, Sherlock's POV, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-02 20:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10226606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shag_me_senseless_watson/pseuds/shag_me_senseless_watson
Summary: A short narrative about a boy who is lost (Sherlock), and a boy who is found (John).





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters, but I do own the story plot.

I am me. Me, in all that you see. Nothing short of a failure, if I am truly honest. I've yet to find something good about myself.

My life is empty, void of excitement.

School is boring and work is dull, there's never a day where I can call it cool.

Until I saw him.

When he walked into the room, his smile would make you stop in your tracks.

His laugh would fill you with joy.

His eyes gleam as they look around.

When he's around, you know it's going to be okay.

Watching him, I felt something from within myself click into action.

It makes my head fuzzy and my mind full.

It makes me squirm in my seat, and blush in my cheeks.

But he doesn't know that I exist, and that's okay.


	2. Two

He is beautiful. He is like the sun, the day; always shining, always bright.

I am like the moon, the night; always dark and full of sadness. But deep down, not as deep as a hole, but as deep as the ocean; I have a flare.

A flare, a spark. Fighting to ignite.

Deep down below all that I am, I have light.

But it's never shown itself until now.

Not since _he_ caught my eye. Disrupted my thoughts, my day, my life.

Every second of every minute of every hour of every day, he is there in the front of my mind.

I don't matter to him, but he matters to me. I don't even know him. But I want to.


	3. Three

Not a day goes by that I don't think of him.

It's been months now, and still I obsess over what I cannot have.

If I could just find it within myself to go up to him and say hello, I would. If I could just get closer, then maybe I'd stand a chance.

If only I could just move my feet instead of biting my tongue.

Then maybe he'd notice me.

But he doesn't, and that's okay.


	4. Four

He noticed me today.

He stopped me in the hallway and had asked what I was wearing. I told him it was Bach. He asked who that was.

Sometimes I forget that not everyone knows who that is.

I told him.

He smiled and asked if I liked music, then.

I couldn't answer verbally. He'd smiled at me.

I could only nod my head and blush.

We became friends. He told me about himself, I told him about me.

He said he likes rock, then proceeded to sing his favorite tune.

I told him that I like classical and that I play violin.

He asked for a show.

So I gave him a show.


	5. Five

Friends became best friends, then best friends became boyfriends.

He told me about the moment he saw me. I told him about the moment I saw him, and how he was stubborn and wouldn't get out of my head.

He laughed and looked at me, just smiling.

Those gleaming eyes, focused on just me.

I told him which features of his were my favorite, and he did the same.

We talking about nothing, we talked about everything.

I ran my fingers through his soft blond hair, he ran his fingers through mine.

We got closer and closer, until the air was thin and we could only hear each other's soft breathing.

He was my first kiss.


	6. Six

He tells me about his home life, I tell him about mine.

His story makes me angry, but sad all the while.

His parents care nothing for him, and his sister was disowned for being a lesbian.

I told him we have to be careful. I don't want to lose him after I just found him.

He agrees.

On the weekends we meet at the library and talk about books. He told me his favorite are horror stories, I told him mine is science.

We talked about our lives and what we wanted to be.

He wants to be a doctor. I want to be a scientist.

Weeks go by and I don't see him again.

I try to call, but it's always ignored.

I don't go by his house because I don't want to raise alarm.

I lose focus in my studies.

I stop playing my violin.

I stop being happy.


	7. Seven

A month later, he comes into class.

He sports a bruise the color of ash.

He sits next to me and all is quiet.

I ask what happened, but he remains silent.

I ask again, he mutters 'father'.

I report him.

My parents say it's okay for him to live with us.

The bruise fades, and so does my anger. He is happy, I am happy he is no longer in danger.

We spend each night in each other's rooms, talking, laughing, watching cartoons.

I play for him and he praises me.

There's no other place I'd rather be.


	8. Eight

Years go by, we're married now.

He's a doctor, I'm a detective.

He saves lives, while I detect what ended them.

He's happy, I'm happy.

We live in a nice flat, where we have a nice landlady, whom I grew up knowing.

She is like my second mother, always loving, always caring.

I have more friends, more family, more love.

I owe it all to John Watson, whom I adore and care of.

He has saved me many times, and he shall do so many more.

I cannot wait to grow old with him, and be together forevermore.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think?


End file.
